The tables were covered in white paper. Crayons, pastels, and smooth sticks waited quietly. Then came Lucy’s glittery purse—her 8-year-old hands had filled it with stones to pass along, one by one, to the strangers around the table.
We traced them. Pushed them. Held them.
Then we let the colors lead:
-Red for emotion.
-Yellow for curiosity.
-Blue for memory.
Each color came with music, with story, with space.
At the Museum of Wisconsin Art, we made marks not for meaning but for presence.
Thank you to Ann Marie and MOWA for the invitation and trust. And thank you to the participants—some new friends, some old students—for showing up and making lines that listened before they spoke.
I had a rock tumbler as a child and really enjoyed it. When my youngest was a child we bought her one. She was eager to enjoy it too, but somewhere after starting on that path, we lost track and it everything inside turned into a solid mass. We tossed it and forgot about it. On a recent beach trip, I collected handfuls of rocks, as I am always likely to do, and, upon return, remembered how I loved my childhood rock tumbler. I immediately researched, ordered and eagerly anticipated its delivery. Of course, with Amazon Prime, that was only a couple day’s wait. As soon as I unboxed it I thought “what am I doing?” I have neither time, nor space for yet another hobby. I thought “what will I DO with a pile of polished, pretty rocks?” I would gather them in my hands and feel their silky smoothness. I would likely gather them in some beautiful glass bowl and…then what? I have toddler grand kids frequently at my home. They put small colorful things in their mouths and up their noses and feed them to the dogs regularly. And I don’t even have a single space to display a bog bowl of pretty rocks. So I quickly decided “I’m Returning the Rock Tumbler” and will, for NOW, stick to painting them when the mood strikes.
"Her cricket kids traipse in to wash their hands." Cricket is a popular bat-and-ball game in Australia where the winning team gets to eat crickets at the end of a match.
I liked her so much I drew her again, but I learned some things about her. (Damn those hands, gotta work on them.) Concept art
Name: Carina
Age: ???
Race: Demon (Father is a demon, mother human)
Ethnicity: Her mother was a young Italian woman who was tricked into falling in love with a demon.
Status: Sorceress
Abilities: She wields a staff that consumes souls of the living. She uses those souls to feed her power.
Extra (for now): The globe on her staff is an ancient artifact in which she had to prove her will and strength to achieve it. The artifact draws out the souls of her victims. But before it does, it puts them in a trance like state to keep them immobilized.
A playful, hand-drawn illustration featuring a happy character wearing a gravity-defying top hat overflowing with a dense garden of flowers. This monochrome piece blends whimsical fantasy with a bold, indie-art aesthetic.
A striking hand-drawn conceptual illustration featuring a brain wearing a colander like a helmet, titled "Selective Ignorance." This piece explores the conscious choice to filter out the noise of the world to protect one's mental clarity and focus.
"I don't want to be here. I want to go back." *Her hands pressed against the glass tank. Her eyes searched his eyes, a silent plead. But the prince just smiled, not a charming pleasant one. It was one with dark intent. "You will never leave. This is your home. So enjoy the attention as you get it."
A detailed hand-drawn ink and wash illustration featuring two majestic dogs that look like statues perched above a historic gothic cathedral. This piece captures the timeless atmosphere of old European streets, blending architectural precision with the organic soul of a loyal companion cast in stone. Perfect for fans of urban sketching, dark academia, and classical monument art.
A hand-drawn illustration featuring a classic to-go coffee cup overflowing with ibuprofen pills instead of liquid. Perfectly capturing the essence of a rough morning, a long shift, or just the reality of "adulting.", text that reads: Venti Ibuprofen Kind of Day
The Tool Bench marks my 50th canvas—completed exactly one year to the day after I finished my very first one. This piece is a tribute to work, memory, and the quiet corners where both creativity and responsibility live.
Drawn entirely freehand, it’s built like a snapshot of a lived-in workspace: mismatched tools, worn wood, scribbled reminders, and the little personal things that actually make a place yours. The clipboard holds a “Honey-Do” list that never seems to end. The Polaroid-style sketch of my wife sits taped to the wall like a reminder of why the work matters. The shadows on the back wall match the tools lying on the bench—suggesting a moment in progress, a task paused, life happening between motions.
A striking, high-contrast graphite study of a hand in the act of writing. Created in a rapid 45-minute sitting through self-observation, this piece captures the intricate anatomy and focused tension of the artist's own hand as it holds the pen. The tip being pencil the top being pen and finger tips slightly smudged incorporate all aspects of the mediums used to create it.
A couple of plant lovers, a sunflower and a cactus are holding hands, the sunflower wears a spikes collar, showing she has a preference for dangerous things, like his cactus boyfriend, they are perfect for each other.
